The weather had been mild and sunny over much of the spring and early summer, and prosperity had returned to the Villages nestled between the rolling plains and low lying hills of the Western Regions. The early spring rains gave rise to lush blankets of green over the hillsides, and along the creeks and rivers that moved gently through the area. But forecasts of storm clouds gathering to the east portending a harsh fall and winter caused not just a little consternation amongst the happy Villagers of Washing Town.

Master Baker Guilliaum Guilliaum was putting the final touches on a special-order dish of Dusted White Flour Delights, an elegant pastry for the Village Banker, when he learned of storm warnings of another kind posted in the Village center. Reports had surfaced accusing Assistant Baker Brun Hilda of using undue influence with the White Flour Granary in the purchase of flour for the tiny bakery, and to the dynamic Baker’s surprise this angered some of the Village people.

Kinder Upstarrt, the Village Idiot, assumed the self-appointed and independent role of publicly scolding Assistant Baker Brun Hilda for practices he found highly questionable and suspect. Kinder Upstarrt learned that one Jymmie Buttron, the slimy underhanded and connected Money Lender from the southern Village of Tiny Stone, had made clandestine arrangements with Assistant Baker Brun Hilda over the secret purchase of water rights to operate the Washing Town Bakery’s mill. Kinder Upstarrt was having difficulties in gathering information regarding these allegations, a growing frustration for him, as most people loved Master Baker Guilliaum Guilliaum, and were reluctant to say anything that would put his name, or that of his faithful Assistant, in a bad light.

Kinder Upstarrt worked long hours seeking such incriminating evidence, facts he could use to stain the reputation of the strong-willed and self-assured Assistant Baker Brun Hilda. Kinder Upstarrt’s investigation continued and extended over a growing period of postponements, accusations and counter-accusations, and denials of non-denials.

One day, as Kinder Upstarrt stood by the well near the center of the Village crying out the misdeeds of the Assistant Baker, he was struck by the idea that perhaps Master Baker Guilliaum Guilliaum was also involved in pastry misdeeds. The idea grew in his fertile though tiny mind, and his de-crying of misdeeds of pastry and dough took on even greater intensity. His excitement grew when he was contacted by the Village Bully, Tohmaine Nettleson, and told to meet him late one dark and stormy night next to the Wall of The Ancients bordering the South End of the Village for some prime information that would assist him in his investigation.

Dark clouds obscured a moon in its first quarter, and there was an unsettling and chilling wind blowing from out of the Eastern Realm. There at the Wall Kinder Upstarrt was given the name of a former Assistant Assistant Baker, one Jess Icca Flours, whom Nettleson learned on good authority, had on several occasions been observed late at night kneading dough with the Master Baker in the back room of the Bakery. It was further reported that the Master Baker kneaded his special recipe dough with the Assistant Assistant Baker without using his special gloves, clearly unsanitary by any measure.

Master Baker Guilliaum Guilliaum was initially silent in the face of such accusations, a position that was clearly misinterpreted by some of the Village folk. He reacted with indignation, though not publicly, and felt deeply misunderstood by the people of the Village. Then, one day in the public market, he denied vehemently the accusation of any misconduct with Ms. Flours, especially with respect to kneading dough for any secret recipes for pastries. “I have not kneaded dough with that woman!” he exclaimed solemnly. Assistant Baker Brun Hilda stood by her man, smiling and holding his hand.

The people of the Village smiled, and continued to frequent the Bakery for the Master Baker’s special pastries. Some questioned whether he should be allowed to continue to bake such special pastries for the Village, but they were in the minority and his popularity remained high. Jaison Saddlord, the greasy and unscrupulous Village Mayor, came out in support of the Master Baker, and his popularity soared higher still. In the face of such strong support, Kinder Upstarrt continued his investigative efforts, and renewed the intensity of his personal quest.

The Master Baker Guilliaum Guilliaum continued to be seen in public, around the well near the center of the Village, beside the Wall of The Ancients on the South End, and jogging along the banks of the river that ran through the verdant fields to the West. His Assistant Baker Brun Hilda was always at his side, smiling and holding his hand, except when he was jogging. And following close behind, was a small band of men with long dark coats and hats pulled down over their faces – assistants to Kinder Upstarrt, seeking all manner of information in their ongoing investigation. And, as was usual, there was a large following of supporters of the Master Baker, young people filled with enthusiasm and idealism for his wonderful works. One young woman, the Wily Village Wench, Mona Kahleuwinsk, was increasingly observed at all functions where the Master Baker was present.

It was not unusual to see the enthusiastic Ms. Kahleuwinsk near his side, clapping at his every word, and cheering with the crowds as they expressed appreciation for his masterful pastry works. Ms. Kahleuwinsk often placed herself beside him as he would wend his way to his Bakery Shop, beaming and occasionally rubbing shoulders with him as they passed through the narrow cobblestone streets. The Master Baker basked in all this attention.

One day, Kinder Upstarrt held a meeting with Tohmaine Nettleson, the Village Bully. They reviewed the information thus far gathered, seeking suspicious patterns, a delicious fact heretofore unobserved, a bit of something incriminating previously unnoticed in the myriad pieces of growing information.

Tohmaine Nettleson poured over several preliminary reports, when suddenly he straightened up and let out a gasp. Kinder Upstarrt took notice, being a most observant fellow in spite of possessing such a tiny brain, and asked, “What is it, Tohmaine?” “My workers have seen the Village Wench at every public gathering where the Master Baker has been present. That’s not the news. But, listen to this! – an assistant in the Village Mayor’s office, reports she observed Mona Kahleuwinsk during a recent visit to the Bakery, and things weren’t quite proper, if you follow my gist,” said Tohmaine Nettleson.

“What are you saying, Nettleson?” asked Kinder Upstarrt, his eyes narrowing. “Why, I do believe my contact in the Mayor’s office actually observed Ms. Kahleuwinsk in a compromising position in the back room at the Bakery,” whispered Tohmaine Nettleson quietly, a gleam lighting his eyes. “Doing what, exactly?” whispered Kinder Upstarrt, his interest acute. “What?”

“Well, she told me that Ms. Kahleuwinsk was in the back room with the Master Baker, and they were, ah – mixing flour! And, they were kneading dough for a special recipe for The Master Baker’s pastries! And, it gets better! He wasn’t using special gloves!” said the Village Bully triumphantly. “No!” said Kinder Upstart, his lips drooling, his eyes alight. “Then, we have him!” whispered Kinder Upstarrt, and he exhaled audibly. “We have him,” said Tohmaine Nettleson.

The next day, Master Baker Guilliaum Guilliaum and his Assistant Baker Brun Hilda took their daily walk by the Village center, past the well, and near the Public Post, where all the notices informing the Village people of anything newsworthy were posted. There the two saw in bold print, “Master Baker Caught with Hands in Assistant Assistant’s Dough!” The Master Baker was stunned, disbelieving, his face drained of color.

The Assistant Baker stood by his side, as they together read the accusations of Kinder Upstarrt. “Mona Kahleuwinsk Caught With Hands on Master Baker’s Secret Recipe,” continued the notice. In anger, Master Baker Guilliaum Guilliaum tore the notice from the Post, and stormed back to his Bakery, trailed by The Assistant Baker. The group following tried to keep pace with the angered Master Baker, but soon were outdistanced.

The Master Baker called the Village Mayor to the Bakery, and as the Mayor entered thrust the torn and wrinkled notice under his nose. “What are you doing about this?” he shouted, anger turning his face crimson. The Village Mayor stammered, “We….We’re doing everything we can, Sir.” He looked particularly pained. “It’s just that this Kinder Upstarrt has some very dicey evidence, Sir, and it’s very hard to put the right spin on pastry that involves inferior flour, secret recipes, and missing special gloves.” “Just fix it!” whispered the Master Baker, his eyes dark behind slits.

Jaison Saddlord, the Village Mayor strode up to the Public Post, and raised his hands for quiet. The gathered crowds hushed, and their milling stopped. “The Master Baker is impatient to have this matter ended, and wants to convey to you his genuine interest in setting the record straight, as is your due,” said the Village Mayor forthrightly.

“The Master Baker has done nothing wrong in the back of the Bakery,” intoned the Village Mayor, “He has not, period.” He paused for effect. “He has not mixed inferior flour, and certainly he has not kneaded dough improperly – these accusations are raised by those who think themselves right, who have a recipe to grind, and who want to take over the Bakery.”

A murmur spread through the crowd. The Village Mayor was unable to discern the meaning of the murmur, but continued. “It is difficult to carry on with the work of the Bakery with all these unfounded accusations abounding – they are a terrible distraction from the work to be done,” said the Village Mayor, a little annoyed. “It is time to put all this behind us, and move forward with the fine work of the Master Baker and his special pastry recipes,” he concluded. Beaming, with a look of self-satisfaction working his full lips, Jaison Saddlord turned and strode toward the Bakery, a man with a purpose – a man who had just set the record straight.

The Master Baker looked at Jaison Saddlord with anger filling his eyes. “I always knead my dough wearing special gloves!” exclaimed Guilliaum Guilliaum, hotly. “And besides, this is about a secret recipe! How can they expect me to talk openly about such things – it’s secret, for god’s sake!” “I know, Sir, I know,” said the Village Mayor knowingly.

“But, Sir – I think you should take this dilemma by the horns, and own up to what happened in that back room.” “What exactly do you think happened back there, Saddlord?” asked the Master Baker, a chill running through his words, his eyes hard as crystal. “Well, Sir – I’m not one in a position to know or say what happened. I’m just thinking about appearances, Sir. It’s what the Village people think happened in the back room that counts.” “Hmmm,” said the Master Baker. “And, you think I should speak to that to the Village people?” “It wouldn’t take much to put the record straight that way, Sir,” said the Village Mayor with a smile on his lips. “If you’re sincere, the people will believe, and forgive. I think we have a good chance to put this all behind you, Sir, and we can get on with business as usual,” he concluded.

The next morning, The Master Baker Guilliaum Guilliaum strode along the cobblestone streets with his Assistant Baker Brun Hilda at his side. There was a serious air about the party that moved along the streets toward the Public Post in the center of the Village. The Master Baker took his place next to the Post, and said, “My fellow Villagers – I have something I must in good conscience tell you. It is a very difficult thing I do here today. I have misled you about this whole matter of that woman – Mona Kahleuwinsk. I did an improper thing with Ms. Kahleuwinsk; it was a moment of misjudgment. She did help me with kneading the dough for my special recipe pastries. I’m not proud of having permitted this indiscretion, but it wasn’t my fault, really. You see, Ms. Kahleuwinsk came to me, and in her exuberance, she assisted me in this special procedure. Just once.”

The Master Baker looked directly into the eyes of the Villagers and smiled, a sincere and pained look on his visage. “I want to tell you, my fellow Villagers, that I was not being totally truthful or forthright with you about all this. I am especially sorry I mislead my best friend, my Assistant Baker Brun Hilda.” Assistant Baker Brun Hilda stood beside her man, and smiled an enigmatic smile, grasping tightly to his hand.

Two weeks later, The Master Baker apologized to the Villagers that he had indeed had an improper relationship with Mona Kahleuwinsk in the back room of the Bakery. He did allow Ms. Kahleuwinsk to knead his special dough, though he did not himself knead the dough with her.

Moral:                       Those in positions of power and influence, often want their pastries and eat it, too…